Save Yourself Read Online Free Page B

certainly Daddy’s best girl.”
    He wanted to change the subject. “What are you doing out this early, anyway?”
    “It’s not voluntary.” She folded her arms on top of the cash register and rested her chin on her wrists. The top of her head bobbed with each word. “Mike let me take his truck since my stupid battery has been so flaky lately. I just drove him to work. You can get him tonight, right?”
    “Nyet.”
    “Fuck you, why not?”
    Because driving scared him and he didn’t want to do it anymore. “My car’s out of commission. From hitting the deer. I told you.”
    She blinked her green eyes and frowned. “You didn’t say it wasn’t working at all. How did you get here?”
    “Walked.”
    “You’re not going to turn into that creepy long-haired guy who walks everywhere, are you?”
    “My hair’s not that long.”
    “It’s getting there.” She yawned again, bending her face down toward her shoulder to cover her mouth. “You should have asked for a ride.”
    The door bell jingled yet again. This time it was an old duffer wearing a flannel shirt that looked as ancient as he did. “Need a Match 6,” the duffer said, pulling a scrap of paper with some numbers scrawled on it out of his pocket.
    Caro stepped back. “I’ll tell Mike to call you.” Then she lifted a hand and left. The duffer started reading off his numbers and Patrick punched them in. As he waited for the ticket to print, he happened to glance out the big plate-glass window and see Caro. He watched as she put her coffee cup down on the running board of Mike’s huge jacked-up truck, pulled the sleeve of her sweatshirt over her hand, and reached up to open the door. Then she freed her hand, picked up her cup, and hoisted herself nimbly into the cab. She didn’t even spill the coffee. It was impressive.
    The lottery machine whirred. Patrick looked back at the old duffer. His eyes were the same place Patrick’s had just been. “Wouldn’t mind a piece of that,” the duffer said.
    “You want her number?”
    The duffer laughed, his mouth opening wide to show stained teeth and a yellow tongue. Patrick asked him if he needed anything else.
    “That’ll do me,” the duffer said.
·   ·   ·
    Bill had the next shift. A few minutes before he was supposed to arrive, the phone rang. “Dude,” he said, sounding at least as hungover as Patrick had been the night before. “Cover for me for a few hours.” And extra money was extra money, so Patrick did. By the time he got home, it was close to noon. Caro was at work and the house was empty. He took off his candy-striped Zoney’s shirt, dropped it on the floor next to the armchair, and dropped himself onto the couch. ESPN Classic was showing an old Pirates game; it was the playoffs, and the Pirates were winning. The last time that had happened, Patrick had been nine. His mom had been alive and his dad had only been a social drunk. He vaguely remembered this game, these players. Baseball cards at recess, or something.
    He fell asleep before the fifth inning and woke up to a clattering crash. Which turned into a fast riffing guitar, and the Zeppelin song he used as his ringtone. He grabbed for his phone and pressed buttons until the noise stopped. “Hello?”
    “I didn’t know your car was that bad,” Mike said.
    Now the TV screen showed a man in a cowboy hat clinging to a bull the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. Patrick groped for the remote. The announcer’s cornpone accent was the most annoying sound he’d ever heard. “Yeah,” he said, still groggy. “What’s up?”
    “Caro’s phone is dead. Probably out of minutes. When she gets home, tell her I picked up a double, so she doesn’t need to come get me. I’ll get a ride with Frank tomorrow morning.” Patrick heard a shout and a laugh in the background. Mike was calling from the phone in the warehouse office. “She might be pissed. We were supposed to go out tonight. Tell her something nice for me, okay?”
    “Tell her